EXALTED (An Exalted Novel) (26 page)

Val returned to our dorm room the day after I let her beat me at Battlefield. Today, she’s finally allowed to remove her head bandage for our ceremonial send-off. As we get ready for the big event, I try to helping my friend hide the shaved portion of her scalp where they stitched her head up. It’s not easy with her hair being so short.

The banquet is one of the only two occasions when the female Exalted wear a dress, the other being the United Ceremony. It’s customary for us to wear a fitted, black dress that hits about mid-thigh. Its provided to us by the Republic. The material reminds me of our nanosuits from the Second Trial. It’s a little stretchy and very clingy. The short length shows off the muscles in my legs, and the thin straps show off my toned arms and back. The top dips to display a subtle hint of cleavage, while the back hugs my body.
I feel like a stuffed sausage.

I slide my feet into black pumps with two-inch heels. Almost immediately, I wobble over onto my bed for support. They should have made walking in heels part of our training. Hopefully, I’ll make it down the stairs without breaking an ankle or any other body part. It would be excruciatingly embarrassing to be taken down by shoes and not another trainee.

I stand in front of our only mirror in the bathroom, tugging and adjusting the skintight dress, fluffing my hair, and pinching my cheeks for some color. With one last look at myself, I silently hope no one laughs at me.
I guess they can’t though, can they?

Val and I head for one of the buildings that border the Ambassador’s square. It’s used every year for the banquet and the two floors above it are the living quarters for Dr. Fredericks. He will be in attendance at this event as he is every year, presumably to get a good look at his precious protectors before they’re sent out to prove they’re worthy of defending the Republic. I’ve never seen him before, but I hear he is a middle-aged man with a scrawny body. Physically speaking, he is clearly someone in need of protection.

We make it down the hall in one piece, but I’m not willing to risk the integrity of my ankle the night before the Third Trial. I slip my heels off and take the stairs two at a time with ease. Val chooses to keep her heels on, so I end up waiting several minutes for her at the bottom of the stairwell. Her shoes click all the way down.

Several parents and a few other trainees follow us out into the night. There are some ahead of us who are already disappearing around the corner of the building. The night is clear and the stars are abundant, speckling the sky
like freckles.

I find myself excited about the banquet, even though I look completely ridiculous. One last night of “childhood” before life as an Exalted truly begins. This is really it . . . Tonight after the banquet has come to a close, the trainees will be ushered to a holding room where we will take a sedative. In the morning, we will wake up somewhere beyond the Republic’s walls. This is when the Third Trial begins. We are supposed to do whatever we have to do to make our way back to the Republic.
Will I?

I set my shoulders straight and hold my head high. I want this; it’s bred into me. I can’t help wanting to be first—to be respected amongst the other Exalted.

Upon entering the building, I see that the tables are arranged according to parent rankings. Gold vases with elaborate sprays sit on each table as centerpieces. In the center of each spray is a golden rod with a single hoop or multiple gold hoops that tell us the table’s ranking. I’ll be joining my parents at a second place table. They are already waiting for me.

I
leave Val and make my way through the sea of Exalted parents and instructors. Most of them are clustered in small groups of similar rankings. They’re chatting about the Trials. A few times I hear Ethan and Az’s names, but it seems my name is dominating most of the conversations. Most of them stop talking about me when I squeeze past them. They watch my every move. It’s unnerving.

E
ntertainment is not provided at the banquet, aside from the customary speech from Dr. Fredericks. His speech is the highlight of our meal. I can hardly wait.

I stop myself from leaning down to hug my parents. Instead, I sit in my designated seat and nod a simple hello to them. My mother is a vision in her own black dress. I’m a little envious of the extra fabric she is allowed to have because of her United status. My father is looking very dashing in his cris
p, black on black suit. It’s strange to see them so dressed up.

I wonder what it was like for them when they were in my place. Did they compete as everyone else did and end up together purely based on results? Or did they place based on each other’s results, knowing they wanted to be together? It must have been based on results, since they were under the influence of the Pump at that time.

Will the Exalted ever be in control of their lives? Why aren’t we?

My parents an
d I keep our faces emotionless while we speak in the presence of the other Exalted trainees, their families, and the instructors. My father begins the conversation at our table. “Good evening, Mena. We’re sorry you’re stuck at the second place table, since you should be among the first place winners.”

What a typical United parent thing to say. He shouldn’t be apologizing to me for his ranking. I shake my head, “Don’t apologize. You are both high ranking, and you should acknowledge that.”

“Yes dear, but we are honored by your performance.” My mother tries to clear the air.

“Well, thank you.” I mutter.

I glance around the room. People are starting to take their seats. Ethan is with his family, on the other side of the room. They rigidly stand facing one another. Ethan’s father is inches from his face, talking at him—not to him. I can only imagine the pressure he’s putting on Ethan to be stronger, to be the best. It’s probably the same as most of the other parents here. I feel lucky not to have that pressure along with all the other issues that I’m facing.

With all
of the emotions that are surging through me, it’s strange to be immersed in such a stagnant atmosphere. People are mingling and talking, but it’s the same talk as always. Their conversations only consist of the Trials, the United Ceremony, the rankings, and so on. There is no celebration here or crying for fear they’ll never see their loved one again. There’s not even camaraderie amongst the trainees. I would be locked up or worse, if I were caught patting Val on the back and cheering her on. I’m not sure what I expected of this evening, but this isn’t it. Life here is becoming more frustrating by the minute.

Once everyone has taken their seats, an Exalted I have never seen before takes the stage. She is an aged woman with cascading gray hair. It shines like the stars in the sky outside. Her face is withered and her muscles have long ago wilted, but she stands tall and proud like an Exalted should, no matter what their age.

The woman stands behind a podium with a microphone, at the center of the small stage. “Welcome trainees and families to the Third Trial Banquet.” She adjusts the microphone up a little to accommodate her height. “We expect great things from our trainees and have been very impressed thus far, although there is always room for improvement.” Her voice is raspy with age, but controlled.

Looking around the formal faces of the room, the woman briefly stops on mine. She continues on before it becomes obvious to anyone else. “Tonight we shall feast, for tomorrow you will be hungry and alone. It will be up to you and you alone to complete your Third Trial. You must make it back to the Republic and take your place amongst the Exalted. We are the protectors of our society. May strength be with you all.” The crowd stomps their feet. I join in willingly.

When the thundering dies down, the silver haired woman makes an introduction before leaving the stage. “Please welcome Dr. Fredericks.” Before taking her seat at a nearby table, the woman adjusts the microphone back down for someone much shorter than she.

The crowd is stomping louder and louder as they wait for their leader’s grand entrance. I look around, trying to catch a glimpse of him. I am eager to see whose orders we obey.

From behind the stage, a dark curtain parts and a small middle-aged man emerges. He smiles at his audience.
Smiles! He’s mocking us!
I can hardly believe my eyes. And then he waves. I look sharply at my parents who remain expressionless. My father catches my dumbfounded look and jerks his eyes forward, motioning me to play it cool and stop looking around like a gawking moron.

Dr. Fredericks
approaches the podium, takes a sip of his awaiting water, and then clears his throat. I take a good look at him. He’s short and boney with thinning hair and a pinched face. Wire-rimmed glasses rest on top of his sharp nose. He’s dressed immaculately in a pressed, white tuxedo with matching white shoes. He’s like a bright light shining in the center of a dark tunnel. All of the Exalted fall into the background as soon as this snake-like little man walks into the room.

I compose myself
so as not to give myself away.

“Thank you for that enthusiastic welcome, my beloved Exalted,” Dr. Fredericks greets us with a clear and assured speaking voice. He’s charming the audience and hy
pnotizing them with every word. “And thank you, Drucilla, for that lovely speech.” He’s even using words like “enthusiastic” and “lovely.” He continues to openly mock us. No one here is accustomed to hearing these kinds of words.
What game is he playing?

“I’ve been monitoring the Trials thus far and am pleased with some of the stand out trainees.” He looks to Az and then to me. I freeze under his cruel glare. “In the Third Trial you can expect to use all of the skills you have learned in training. It will be difficult and some of you may not make it back, but those of you who do, will have the honor of participating in the United Ceremony. You will protect the Republic’s citizens and our way of life. You will be gods amongst mortals. Make us proud!” He revels in his audience’s praises.
The Exalted stomp their feet to show their devotion. Thunder echoes throughout the space, expanding and contracting like it has a life of it’s own—breathing victory over the waiting trainees.

Dr. Fredericks waves off the cheering, so that he can continue with his speech. “Tomorrow
, you will all be dropped off in various locations surrounding the Republic. You will be days away from your home. You will wear your standard issue training attire, which will have an interior pocket that will hide a two-week supply of your supplements—more than you should need. I’ve also decided to provide you with your weapon or weapons and a flint. Now, this is very important . . . ” The small man takes a lengthy breath to keep us in suspense. “You will also be left with a watch that tells time, of course, but this watch is special. It will also house a pre-war map, and it will keep you informed of your competition’s progress. What I mean by that is, whenever a trainee returns to the Republic and passes through any of the four gates, your watch will beep and light up. It will beep and light up once for a male’s return, and twice for a female’s return.”

This
information is a surprise to me. I’m realizing that the Exalted are very good at keeping the secrets of the Trials.

“Remember, there are only two rules. One: Do not leave marauders alive. And two: Don’t kill your fellow trainees should you run into one of them. The more protectors the Republic has, the better.” Dr. Fredericks pushes his drooping glasses back up his thin nose as
he leans forward over the microphone. He has one last thing to say. “Enjoy your feast and may strength be with you all!” he shouts this last part. Once again the crowd praises their leader. I find it surprising that Dr. Fredericks doesn’t show up to more public functions, because he seems to be enjoying all of the applause.

The doctor, in his pristine white tuxedo, descends the stage’s steps. He joins Drucilla and two Ambassadors at their isolated table. Two hulking male Exalteds stand watch over the doctor just a few feet away. They keep a close eye on the crowd and the servers.
Who does Dr. Fredericks need protection from? He’s in control of everyone here. Or is he? Are there others like my parents and me?

The cook citizens scurry in and out, carrying trays of food to each person in attendance. There is so much food that I fear I may bust the seams of my dress. They bring us beautiful, tasty appetizers of all sorts and salad topped with strawberries, pecans, orange slices, cranberries, and feta cheese. We receive the most amazing cut of steak imaginable that’s topped with crawfish tails. The side dish is asparagus topped with a creamy yellow sauce. Some of the server citizens walk around with cheese platters (I never knew so many different types of cheese existed) for us to pick at between dinner and dessert. Dessert. I very much like dessert. We are given cheesecake with white chocolate flakes and a raspberry drizzled topping. I never knew food could taste so good. I eat everything the citizens put in front of me, enjoying all of the new flavors and textures. I didn’t know I had it in me, but I do.

I was so engrossed in the meal that I didn’t even bother to keep an eye on Dr. Fredericks. It seems that he has disappeared for the evening, leaving Drucilla and the two Ambassadors to finish their dinners alone. His bodyguards are missing too. It’s just as well; he was definitely putting a damper on my evening. I instantly feel more relaxed—a little too relaxed, maybe. I politely excuse myself from our table and head for the restroom. I shimmy down the empty hallway as fast as I can, find the right door, and duck in a stall.